Te Busque
by leftover.me
Summary: PaigeShaneCarmen although not all together. Set just after the Season 4 Finale. Shane and Carmen meet for the first time since Canada and find their lives awkwardly pushed together.
1. No Hay Igual

Disclaimer: I do not own The L Word, which is owned by that wonderful entertainment channel known as Showtime and that lucky lady known as Ilene Chaiken. I would, however, like to keep tabs on my original characters. Any and all references to real people are fiction and should not be misconstrued as truth relating to or about these people.

Timeframe: Just after the Season 4 finale.

Characters: Carmen/Shane/Paige love triangle (main focus). Alice is also important. Cameos from other characters very possible.

**Te Busque**

**By leftover.me**

"I've been walking around all day, thinking: I think I have a problem, I think I think too much. I've been taught to hold back my tears and avoid them, but you've made pain into something I could touch. I've been walking around all day, laughing, thinking I'd be better off without you here." - Maria Mena

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Chapter One: No Hay Igual

They had to call the police, the fire station, and finally the coast guard to figure out where Sounder's mother was—floating away on a yellow boat, asleep and apathetic. It took 12 hours and lots of irritated lesbians, pseudo-lesbians, straight women, and an equally diverse assortment of men to find one little crazed writer with a poofy dog.

Shane was done with it.

In fact, Shane would be perfectly happy to never see the beach again. Or any sort of uniformed personnel, for that matter. Both made her nervous. Uniformed officers reminded her of her extensive rap sheet and whenever she was on the beach she sometimes felt like Cherie's house was going to pop up behind her, like the past months had been a dream, a pleasant trip or something.

But Cherie's house was miles and miles of coastline away, and Shane had no plans involving going anywhere near her or any of her other properties for the rest of her life. So now she was holed up in the back of the Planet, eyes glued to her doubleshot, her mind completely blank. It was nice.

"Hey, Nelly Furtado's coming into town tonight and doing some VIP-special-swanky show-slash-party-slash-dance-night thing. I got a press pass and one free ticket. Wanna come?"

Shane raised her eyes from her espresso to Alice, who was beaming down at her, the Planet's usual crowd bustling in the background. She sniffed, "You _know _I hate Nelly Furtado."

"No you don't. Oh come on, underneath all that Goldfrapp and Sleater-Kinney, I know you got some lovin' left for Nelly," prodded Alice, still beaming. "Come on. A little Latin flashback, eh?"

Shane glared. "That was unnecessary, Al."

"Okay, below the belt, whatever, but come on," sighed Alice, her smile dropping as she sat down across from Shane. "You've been like, on a metaphorical 'Paige vacation' for like four months, and I have been here, on planet Planet, waiting for you to come ask me how my day is, which by the way you only do when Paige is working in the morning. I miss youuuuuuu. And your bad hair."

"Just because I have a relationship with someone outside your little bubble doesn't mean I haven't been there for you," replied Shane defensively. "Where's Tasha?"

"Alright, (a) don't start defending Paige as if I don't like her because (b) I really like your Amazon Warrior more affectionately known as Paige Sobel and (c) Tasha is gone. I dropped her off just before coming here." Alice stared into her chai.

"Aw, Al." Shane affectionately rubbed her friend's shoulder. "Look, I know I've been pretty scarce for the past couple months, and I'm sorry for that, but you know a lot of shit has been going on. And I'm sorry about Tasha leaving."

Alice's face slid into a grin. "Ah. Well. Who could stay mad at those big ol' Shane eyes even if you didn't have a good excuse like a ten-year-old being dropped on your doorstep and an Amazon Warrior girlfriend? Well. You come to Furtado with me tonight and I'll call it even. Deal?"

"Deal."

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The club was packed full of sweaty bodies by the time Alice and Shane arrived. They skipped to the front of the line and squeezed in via press pass, with Alice mumbling something about feeling like she was going through a reverse birthing process.

As soon as they were inside, the hair on the back of Shane's neck rose. She glanced around curiously. Furtado wasn't playing yet, and the club was unnecessarily hot. The crowd was primarily Hispanic. Maybe that was what was making her nervous. She didn't feel up to running into the Morales cousins again, especially at night.

Alice, who hadn't said anything since their entrance pulled on her sleeve and pointed, and Shane looked up to see what, quite possibly, may have been a dream.

Furtado wasn't playing yet, but there was a DJ in the booth. Even across the club, the DJ was hot. That was the first thing that occurred to Shane. The next was that the DJ was short. The next was that the DJ was tan and toned and wore her hair long but her fingernails short. And lastly, that the DJ was Carmen.

Shane turned and made a beeline for the door.

"Oh shit," breathed Alice, who had magically produced a martini. She downed her martini and chased after her Fraggle-esque friend shouting, "Shane! Shane! Shane McCutcheon!"

And maybe she was yelling a little too loud, because at that moment the music cut out and the crowd froze and all anyone could hear was Alice yelling, "SHANE FUCKING MCCUTCHEON GET YOUR SKINNY ASS BACK HERE!" followed by an under-the-breath "Oh shit." She caught up to Shane, who was stationary but nonresponsive as Alice grabbed her shoulder and yanked her deeper into the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Nelly Furtado," announced a very announcer voice.

Alice looked up as Nelly Furtado sauntered on stage to Carmen, who was standing stiff and straight and looking right at Alice and Shane. The reporter gulped and stared right back. Shane looked like she was either going to cry or pass out, or some combination of the two.

But Nelly Furtado _was_ on stage, and Carmen quickly averted her attention from Shane and Alice to the popstar.

"Thank you for coming tonight," said Furtado with a small bow. "Everyone keeps asking me who's the next big thing in Hollywood, and tonight I wanted to show you just who's the next big thing—Carmen Morales." The crowd started to applaud as Carmen stepped closer to Furtado and managed a shaky smile. "She'll be accompanying me on my next North American tour, which kicks off in San Francisco in next month!"

"I have to get out of here," said Shane, fiercely gripping Alice's arm. "Come on, it's time to _leave_. I don't believe this. What were you thinking?"

"Shane, I didn't know she was going to be here! Honest to God, it's total coincidence," insisted the blonde, wrenching her arm free. "But isn't that like, a sign from God or something?"

"I don't care what it is; I have to go," seethed Shane. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Then Carmen's voice came over the loudspeakers. "Thank you. Um, I'll be spinning after the show tonight all night, but for now I'll let you enjoy the person you really came to see—Nelly Furtado."

An eruption of applause started up again and Shane started fighting her way to the door. Her head was spinning. She could hear Alice yelling something about how much she just hated being rude and leaving early. A hand landed on her shoulder and she whirled around, expecting Carmen but instead finding a slender, pale brunette with a magazine in her hand.

"This one's called Te Busque," purred Furtado.

_I've been high, I've been low_

_I've been fast, I've been slow_

_I've had nowhere to go_

_Missed the bus, missed the show_

"You're Shane, right?" asked the stranger, her voice high and almost screechy. "I_love_ your Hugo Boss ad. My boyfriend got so mad because I put it on the wall in our bedroom. Would you sign an autograph for me?"

_I've been down on my luck, I've felt like givin' up_

_My life lost in the trunk when it hurt way too much_

_I needed a reason to live, some love inside me to give_

_I couldn't rest I had to keep on searchin'_

Shane rolled her eyes and grudgingly accepted the magazine, scribbling her name across her own stomach, and then turned to leave, but Alice was blocking her way.

"You can't just leave. She saw you here," said the blonde, eyebrow arched. "You have a moral obligation to stay for the entire show. That way, if she wants to punch you in the face, she can."

"Such a great friend, Al," growled Shane. "But I am _not_ staying here." Her skin was crawling.

_Te busqué debajo de las piedras y no te encontré_

_(I looked for you under the rocks and couldn't find you)_

_En la mañana fria y en la noche_

_(I looked for you in the cold morning and at night)_

"You owe that much to her," said Alice with a defeated sigh as Shane pushed past her. "Shane. I don't think you'll be able to be with Paige if you don't work things out with Carmen first. Don't you want some closure?"

_Te busqué hasta enloquecer, pero tú_

_(until I became crazy, but you)_

_Llegaste a mi vida como una luz_

_(came into my life like a light)_

_Sanando las heridas de mi corazón_

_(healing the wounds of my heart)_

_Y haciéndome sentir vivo otra vez_

_(making me feel alive again)_

Shane's eyes narrowed. She stopped and turned around, her eyes a little shiny. "Alice, I can't face her. I can't do it. She doesn't want to see me, trust me."

And then, as if on cue, Carmen appeared between them. She was almost exactly as Shane remembered her—petite, sexy, well-dressed. One hand was fastened to her waist and the other was holding a glass of champagne, which was strange to see because Carmen typically, as a rule, only drank beer.

"Carmen," breathed Shane with a nervous smile. "Hi… Carmen."

Carmen had that look on her face, the one that used to mean Shane was sleeping on the couch tonight. Her lips were taut, her feet set, her jaw clenched, her eyes fiery. She silently threw her drink into Shane's face and walked away, pausing only to say to Alice, "I told you not to bring her."

_I've been too sad to speak and too tired to eat_

_I've been too lonely to sing; the devil cut off my wings_

_I've been hurt by my past, but I feel a future in my dreams_

_And at last I wake up; I'm not sure I wanted to find a light_

_Somethin' just didn't feel right; I needed an answer to end_

_All my searchin'_

Shane looked at Alice with a facial expression that made the blonde feel like she'd just kicked a puppy. "Shane… I'm sorry. I just… I just really think you need closure with Carmen before you can really be with Paige."

"Al, can you just mind your own fucking business for once? I'm taking a cab home."

Alice winced as Shane walked out, dripping champagne and on the verge of tears.

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Paige Sobel had lived a fairly busy twenty-nine years. Pregnant at eighteen, it seemed like all the years preceding that moment were just meaningless, silent movie reels. It was as if the day Jared came into her life, she lost the person she had been—Paige the partier, the free spirit, the contender—and became "Mom."

A series of decent but unremarkable boyfriends ensued, each promising, at one time or another, that he didn't mind Jared—that is, until he realized just how full-time Jared could be. He was a twenty-four-hour commitment, something not even the most sympathetic twenty-two-year-old guy wanted just yet, and by the time she hit twenty-seven the guys who _did_ want kids were mostly taken. So she had given up the search.

Then there was Shane McCutcheon, the world's most unlikely single parent and the sexiest woman Paige had ever laid eyes on. She was a great parent—Paige was loathe to label her 'father' or 'mother' because it just didn't feel right—and she was a thoughtful lover. But she was increasingly… well, _fixated_ could only be the proper word, on having a family and the white picket fence package that came with a family. She didn't know much about what had been going on in Shane's life prior to her acquisition of Shay, and she didn't really need to know, but sometimes she caught the side-of-mouth murmurs between Shane's friends and wondered just what context she was stepping into.

She sipped her beer and flipped the page of her book—some Latin-centric trash pulp fiction novel she'd found on the bookshelf in the living room. On the front inside cover was scribbled in Sharpie, _Carmen P. Morales_. Probably a second-hand purchase.

Her whole body jerked in surprise as she heard the front door wrench open and then slam shut. She looked down at Jared, who was asleep beside her, and then hurried into the living room, expecting to find Jenny causing a ruckus again. But to her surprise, it was Shane, disheveled and curled in a tiny ball on the couch.

"Shane?"

The darker woman looked up from behind a sheen of tears. She sniffled and coughed, "P-Paige?"

"Hey, what are you doing home so early? Jared's asleep in your room, I hope you don't mind, I… Are you crying?" The tall blonde went over to the couch and brushed Shane's unruly hair from face. Her mascara was smudged all around her red, swollen eyes and her clothes were damp and she reeked of champagne. "What happened?"

"I, uh…" Shane wouldn't look her in the eye. "I just, uhm. You remember what I told you that day I dropped Shay off at your house before the movie premier?"

Paige swallowed. This was it. No turning back now. Context. "Yeah. Something about not trusting yourself to be good to me. Is that what this is about?"

"Guess so," sniffed the brunette, rubbing her eyes. "I, uh, ran into the woman I was with before you." She continued to stare at her feet, avoiding Paige's gaze. "Her name was Carmen."

"Carmen… P. Morales," echoed Paige.

"How did you…?"

"It's written on one of the books I found on the bookshelf."

"Oh. Yeah. Carmen de la Pica Morales. See, Alice asked me to go to this Nelly Furtado show and I didn't even think twice about it but Carmen ended up being there and—"

"Well what happened between you two?" interrupted Paige, a little more abrasively than she'd intended. "Look at me, Shane… I have a right to know."

Shane inhaled and exhaled slowly, moved to the couch across from her girlfriend and looked her right in the eye as she began, "I met Carmen on some fluke job at a news station. I was doing Ariana Huffington's hair and she was playing coffee gofer/sound tech assistant. See, she worked as a tech during the day and DJ'd at night, mostly clubs and the Planet.

"We fucked a couple times before I, uh, shut her out because she made me nervous with how close she was getting. I had this rule, see, that I didn't do sleepovers or pillow talk or reveal life stories or get close to anyone—or let anyone get close to me. But Carmen, for some reason, wanted to know me. But since I wouldn't be with her, she started dating Jenny—that was a bust—and eventually, you know, I just… realized I was in love with her, which was a big thing for me, and then I asked Carmen to just move in with me.

"Her family didn't know about her yet, or at least were in denial about it, and it was kind of stressful because I loved her family. They were sweet people and made me feel like I was part of their family without asking any questions.

"And we were… together for about seven months before I cheated on her with an ex, Cherie Jaffe. But she stayed with me and it was hard, but she made it work. And then one of our best friends, Dana, passed way from breast cancer." Here Shane's voice shook and broke, her eyes welling up with tears again. "And I realized that I didn't want to lose her. I asked her to marry me.

"So Helena and Alice plan and pay for this whole deal where we all went up to Canada, and Carmen's family came too and it was so sweet… But while we were up there, my dad left his wife for some blonde he met in a bar. Helena had given him ten thousand dollars to buy us a wedding gift, but he skipped town and took the money instead. That was the end of the straw for Peggy Peabody… that's why she cut off Helena from the family funds.

"I panicked. I mean, everyone gets cold feet, but all of a sudden I felt like there was no way I could marry Carmen and not hurt her like my dad hurt his wife. So I left her at the altar. And I haven't spoken to her or seen her until tonight."

Paige was silent for a long time, staring down into her beer and thinking. Finally, with a sigh, she breathed, "You… asked a girl to marry you, she said yes, and then _you_ walk out on her? And don't speak to her?"

Shane felt like dying. "Yeah."

"And that's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Yeah."

A long, tense silence ensued. Paige had to turn this new information over in her head again and again. This wasn't just Shane breaking a girl's heart. This was Shane leading a girl on all the way to the altar—the fucking altar!—and leaving her there. Literally. "Shane… I don't even know what to think about that."

"Paige, I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner, but Paige… please don't leave me over this. Please. Please, Paige." Shane slid off of the couch to her knees and rested her head in the blonde's lap, her warm tears dripping onto Paige's sweatpants. "Please, Paige. Don't leave me alone."

God. She was so vulnerable. Paige had never seen Shane cry like this except the one time she talked about Gabe taking Shay away. She placed a curled finger under Shane's chin and gently lifted the brunette's face until their eyes met. "Shane… you loved Carmen. You _loved_ her. And still you left her. Shane… I… _love_ you. I love you Shane, and I don't know if I could handle you leaving me like that."

"I promise, baby, I promise. I promise I won't do that to you. I would never do that to you and Jared. I promise," choked Shane, crumpling limp against Paige's legs. "Please don't leave me alone."

Paige stared into Shane's deep hazel eyes for a small eternity before finally saying, "I couldn't leave you just for that mistake, Shane… because I can tell you learned something from it. At least… I… I hope you have. I think you're different now, but I want you to tell me right now if I'm giving you too much benefit of the doubt."

Shane grasped her hands and kissed her knuckles. "No, no baby. Trust me. Thank you. Thank you."

They embraced tightly, and Shane mumbled something about sleeping on the couch since Jared was in the bed. So with a kiss goodnight, Paige wandered back down the hallway towards the bedroom. And no, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Paige that Shane hadn't returned the "I love you" sentiment.


	2. Montezuma's Revenge

Disclaimer: I do not own The L Word, which is owned by that wonderful entertainment channel known as Showtime and that lucky lady known as Ilene Chaiken. I would, however, like to keep tabs on my original characters. Any and all references to real people are fiction and should not be misconstrued as truth relating to or about these people.

Timeframe: Just after the Season 4 finale.

Characters: Carmen/Shane/Paige love triangle (main focus). Alice is also important. Cameos from other characters very possible.

Author's Note: Thank you so very much for the kind comments :)

**Te Busque**

**By leftover.me**

"It's not so much that we got closer, it's that her face just got bigger, and by the time it was taking up my whole view I figured my face had gotten bigger too. So I used it to try and sway her say something to her, make my case but my face never had a chance. All along it was the wrong song and dance. I just stood there without even a stance, helpless to her advance and her retreat; backspace, delete." – Ani DiFranco, _Know Now Then_

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**Chapter Two**: Montezuma's Revenge

"I'm never fucking speaking to you again, Al." Click.

Alice rolled her eyes and pressed "redial." She got voicemail, "You've reached Shane's phone." Beep. Always concise, that Shane McCutcheon. "Okay, look, Shane, you're going to have to talk to me eventually because I have the keys to your car and I'm not giving them back until you talk. So you might as well call me back. Bye."

The appropriate amount of time passed for Shane to have listened to that message before Alice's phone lit up with CALLER: SHANE. She flipped it open and sighed, "You cannot stay mad at me forever."

"Yes, I can."

"Shane, you are… like totally overreacting on this. Carmen was part of your life for almost two years, and dating you for like eleven months of that. You can't just never speak again. You know that," lectured Alice. "She put up with more of your shit than I can even begin to remember."

The line crackled as Shane exhaled into her phone. "Al…"

"I know it's hard, but you are about to move in with another woman, another woman who I_assume_ you care a lot about because you're doing the lesbian thing and moving in together after what, four months? Don't you want to have a clean slate? I mean, Shane… You know it'll be easier that way."

Silence.

"Look, just… I'm coming over, okay? I'll give you your keys back. But think about it."

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Alice rang the doorbell several times before it was finally answered—by Paige. The blonde towered above Alice in the doorway, her eyes accusing and angry. "Yes, Alice?"

"Uh… Shane's around, right?"

On cue, the woman in question materialized next to Paige, her lips pursed into a tight line.

"Oh. H-Hey. Shane," sputtered Alice with a nervous laugh. She held out Shane's car keys as Paige disappeared back into the house. "So did you think about what I said? About the closure thing?"

"I did, Al. And…" Shane exhaled and stepped out onto the stoop, closing the front door behind her. "I think you're right..." She grabbed the keys from Alice's hand.

"Phew! Good. You won't regret this, Shane McCutcheon."

"…but considering she didn't seem exactly _enthralled_ to see me, Al, I don't know what you're expecting me to do."

Alice snaked an arm around Shane's thin neck, pulling her close as if they were sharing an intimate secret, and said with assurance, "Look, I know you're new to this whole 'monogamous long-term relationship with a lesbian' thing… so I'm gonna help you out. She will show up at your house sometime…" Alice dramatically checked her watch. "…within the next 48 hours, most likely under some form of inebriation. Trust me. I am 99.863 sure of it."

"That sure, huh?" Shane narrowed her eyes. "Look, it's not like I'm _new_ to the lesbian game. You can make generalizations all you want, but I really don't think she wants to see me… ever… much less show up at my place. She hasn't even _called_."

"You wanna bet on that?" The blonde put on her best poker face… which wasn't very good, but it was cute and convincing nonetheless.

Shane paused, then put out her hand, "Buy me my double-shot for 3 weeks?"

"Buy me my mocha for 3 weeks _and_ do an interview on my radio show?"

"Wha—an interview? Why?"

"Okay, well maybe the significance of the fact that your abdomen is stretched across every other billboard and bus in Hollywood has gone lost on you, but it hasn't gone lost on your legions of squealing fangirls," explained the blonde exasperatedly. "I have gotten like… ten bajillion phone calls about getting you on the show since your Hugo Boss abs went up in lights. The women want Shane!"

The skinnier woman exhaled slowly, her eyes shut tightly as she considered the offer. "Throw in a new pair of jeans and you've got yourself a bet."

"You drive a hard bargain, Shane McCutcheon, but we have a deal."

And they spit on their hands and shook. And kept shaking. And finally Shane sighed noisily and said, "You spit out your gum into your hand, didn't you?"

"I forgot it was there… it lost taste like, ten minutes ago so I wasn't, y'know,_focused_ on it."

"That's disgusting, Al." Shane pulled her hand away, making a face at the stringy, gooey gum that extended from Alice's hand to hers. She quickly judged the color and the scent and decided: "Doublemint."

Then, as if to put the proverbial cherry on top of a magically absurd moment, the front door opened and Paige appeared between them with an incredulous look on her face as she observed the viscous mess between Shane and Alice's hands. "You know, I hardly ever come across stuff that actually makes me sit back and wonder what the hell is going on… but sometimes you two are just a little too weird for me."

Shane's jaw moved up and down vaguely as she struggled come up with some explanation of their behavior, "No, it's not—"

"Just having a bonding moment, Paige," interrupted Alice, pushing her hand back against Shane's hand and rubbing their palms together, an overly innocent grin stretched over her face. "You'll understand someday."

"Right. O-kay," mumbled the taller blonde as walked back inside with a smile and a shake of the head.

A long, awkward silence ensued. Shane stared at Alice, unsure of what frame of mind she was in at the moment. Alice beamed at Shane, unfaltering. After a long while, Shane broke down and started laughing, her shoulders shaking as the tension in her body melted away. "God, I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Al," she said right before she removed her hand from the shake and rubbed the chewed gum all over Alice's shirt.

"Yeah? Yeah, I love you too, Shane," replied the blonde, returning the favor with a gleeful shout.

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Shane went into work around ten o'clock that day, and her first appointment was an old friend named Sy Tuttle, who had started her own record label at age twenty and was living more-than-comfortably by age twenty-five. Currently, at thirty-one, she was an active tour manager and left her girlfriend to take care of the label. She booked cuts like clockwork—always at ten o'clock on the 15th of each month—and was the best tipper in the city.

"Hey mama, what's up?" greeted Shane as the day's first fare swaggered to the shampooing chair.

"Ah… you know. Whiny musicians galore," Sy replied with a wide grin. She was one of Shane's easier clients, usually coming in simply to trim up her faux hawk and faux female sideburns. "But hey—I'm gonna be tagging along on the Melissa Ferrick tour next month. I could hook you up for a couple shows if you wanted."

"No shit, man. I mean, yeah I'd love some tickets." She finished shampooing Sy's short hair and wrapped the smock around her as she sat down in the styling chair. "How's the lady friend feel about that?"

"What do you mean?"

Shane spun her scissors around her thumb and let out a puff of air, as was her ritual at the beginning of each cut these days. "Well as I'm sure you very well know, Ferrick has a pretty persistent and ever-lesbian fan base who are willing to do anything to anyone close to their favorite musician. Think you can say no to all those fawning fangirls?"

Sy actually started laughing then, laughed so hard that Shane almost cut off too much hair in one spot. "I see what you're saying, but… Fangirls? Are you serious?"

"Hey, honest question," defended Shane, subconsciously clenching her jaw.

"I've been with Jules for _six_ years," breathed Sy amusedly. "No amount of booze or boobage is gonna make me give up all the hard work and money I've put into this relationship. You don't trudge through all that misery just to throw it away over a cute smile or nice ass." She peered into the mirror, noticing that Shane was deliberately averting her gaze, even for someone concentrated on something else. "Something on your mind, cutie? You didn't cheat again did you?"

"What? No! No, nothing like that." Shane sighed and leaned on the chair, suddenly feeling very, very tired. "I just had a long night, you know? Ex-girlie drama…"

"You saw Carmen?! I thought she hasn't even called to get any of her stuff!"

"Yeah, but see Alice dragged me to this Nelly Furtado show and Carmen was DJing and she saw me and… It didn't end well. Look down for me, please?"

Sy tilted her head as told, breathed deeply and replied, "Bet that was intense. What does Paige think?"

"Well. Paige doesn't really know what to think, I think." Shane sighed. "And fuck if _I_ know what to do. I mean, I know leaving the relationship as is—sort of unfinished, but also sort of finished in the worst way—isn't going to help me at all with Paige, but I just don't know if I can face her, you know? And Alice says she's is going to show up at my house sometime in the next day or so… and if she's right, I have no idea what I'm going to do or say or what to tell Paige or… I just don't know."

"I see." Sy pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Honestly, Shane, you're bogged pretty damn deep in this whole thing, but I agree on the closure issue. These are _women_ we're talking about here. It's not just a lesbian issue. Women are so deeply involved and emotionally in tune with each other that leaving something like your relationship with Carmen so incomplete will do nothing but tear you and Paige apart. You know this."

"Yeah. I know that I want the end result of Paige and I as a happy couple… I'm just afraid of the process of getting there."

Sy cracked a crooked little smile. "Look, if she doesn't show up at your house, she's going to contact you, that's for sure. And my best advice? Play the sad, guilty puppy card, because… quite obviously, you've got no other angle to play. Don't worry about it too much, though. Just go with the flow. She'll run through the proper emotions and you're just going to have to face up to what you did to her."

"Yeah," breathed Shane. "Guess I don't have any other choice."

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_She was walking through the Planet, but for some reason it was extra planet-y today. Spheres of various sizes and colors floated around her. But the stage was still there. And standing on it was Cherie. Well, some weird succubus version of her. Or maybe that was how she'd been all along. She waved her arms around and the succubus took flight. Abruptly, the bird on the back of her neck jumped off her skin and flew after Cherie. They soon disappeared from sight._

_And then there was Paige, standing in the spot the Cherie-ccubus had vacated. But… She walked over to her. For some reason, Paige was only about four and a half feet tall. She put a hand on the blonde's shoulder and squinted down into her eyes, confused._

_BAM-BAM-BAM._

_She tumbled off the stage from the impact of the sound waves. The planet Mercury flew across the atmosphere and bounced on her stomach a couple times before floating away._

"_What was that?" she asked out loud. Her voice sounded like it was underwater._

_BAM-BAM-BAM._

_And then itty bitty Paige was standing over her, shaking her shoulder. "Shane? Shane?"_

_BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM—_

Shane bolted upright, narrowly avoiding colliding foreheads with a normal-sized Paige. "What? What? What was that?" she gasped, putting a hand to her sweaty forehead.

"Someone's knocking on the front door," explained the blonde, whose voice was sluggish but worried.

Alice's wager suddenly popped into Shane's head. Leaping from the covers, she quickly pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top and disappeared into hallway, ignoring Paige's pleas that she get the baseball bat from under Jenny's bed.

Then, a sound as abrupt and startling as a gunshot—the window to the living room shattered into a million tiny shards of sparkling light, which promptly scattered themselves across the couches, coffee table, and floor. Shane had just stepped into the kitchen, and she quickly pitched backwards to avoid the spray of glass. A rock skittered across the ground into the kitchen, right into Shane's line of sight as if to make a point. Well, at least it wasn't a bullet.

"Shit," seethed Shane. She picked up the rock and marched to the front door, wrenching it open with a loud BANG.

And there she was, Carmen de la Pica Morales in all her furious glory. She was red-faced and disheveled and, just as Alice had promised, she gripped a mostly-empty handle of tequila in her left hand.

"_What_ are you doing?!" hissed Shane, not wanting to wake the neighbors or Jared. "You could've hurt someone!" She angrily threw down the rock, her body buzzing with adrenaline.

"Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" screamed the darker woman as she hurled her tequila bottle at Shane. Due to her intoxication, however, she missed and it hit the side of the house instead, shattering it upon impact.

"Will just fucking stop that for one second?!" yelled Shane, waving her arms at the broken bottle. "You're getting glass everywhere!"

"Shane?" Paige appeared behind her, baseball bat handy. And then she spotted the stranger in the lawn, who looked like a total disaster (and that was putting it lightly), and tightened her grip on the bat. She immediately knew who it was.

"Paige, go inside," insisted Shane, her heart dropping to her bare feet. Carmen was _not_ going to have a pleasant reaction to another woman in the house.

"Who's that?" asked Carmen, pointing. "Who _the hell_ is that, Shane?"

"Carmen, stop," warned Shane, protectively moving her body in front of Paige's. "Paige, go inside. Please."

Carmen drunkenly lurched forward, laughing contemptuously. "Is this your new_girlfriend_, Shane? She your fiancé too?" she jeered, her top lip curled. "Ella es una puta blanca flaca como cada uno en esta ciudad… Y ella es un poco fea y demasiado alta."

"¡Para el ser grosero!" snapped Shane through clenched teeth.

Paige and Carmen both looked a little taken back by Shane's Spanish, Carmen because it was a lot better than it had been before and Paige because she'd never known Shane could understand—much less speak—Spanish.

"Shane? Mom? Who is that?"

Shane and Paige turned around to see Jared standing in the living room, drowsily rubbing his eyes. He had been sleeping in Jenny's room. The novelist was out for the week on a free vacation in San Francisco, awarded to her by Tina and the studio (though everyone knew it was a ploy to get her away from the movie set). Peering at the shards of glass covering the living room, he frowned and asked, "What happened to the window?"

"Honey, go back to sleep," said Paige firmly.

"Is that a kid?" Carmen continued to stagger forward. "Is there a _kid_ in our house?"

Shane's jaw clenched at the 'our' in that last sentence.

Jared narrowed his eyes at Carmen, the disgust and confusion written on his face. "Who is_that_, Shane?" He crossed his arms over his chest and glared, which would've been cute in any situation but this one.

Sighing, Shane turned and looked Jared square in the eye. "Jared. This is my old friend Carmen. She was just stopping by for a visit and she's about to leave. I'll explain everything in the morning. Now _please_ to back to sleep."

Finally sensing the insistence in Shane's voice, Jared huffed and returned to his room.

Turning back to Carmen, Shane sensed the visit was only going to get worse if she allowed it to go on this way. "Paige, I'll just be a second."

"But Shane—"

"Paige, please." Shane's voice was about as definite as it had been with Jared.

The blonde looked at Carmen, who was standing with her hands clenched in fists at her sides, her eyes pinning Shane with a death glare. Shane had her skinny arms crossed over her chest, her jaw set and her stance rigid. There was nothing Paige could do about the confrontation that was about to occur, so she sighed in defeat and returned inside.

"I know what you're about to say, Carmen," warned Shane, moving from the front steps to the lawn, careful to avoid the broken glass. "But do _not_ blow this out of proportion."

Carmen was _livid_. She balanced herself, then got right up in Shane's face and hissed, "She has a _kid_? And they're _living with you?!_"

Shane blanched as the strong, sharp smell of tequila forced its way into her throat. Blinking a couple of times, she insisted, "This does not have_anything_ to do with you, Carmen. This is the part of my life that is none of your business! God, it's like you think you own me. I know what I did was terrible and unforgivable, but that doesn't mean you control my life from here on out." Oddly enough, the little voice in Shane's head immediately chirped _But she does anyway._

"How the _hell_ am I supposed to react when you leave me at the fucking altar because you freak out about being committed to me for the rest of your sorry life, and then you show up to the biggest performance of my life and ruin the whole night, and then I come here to see you shacked up with this blonde _guerrera_ and acting like the father of her damn child! What the fuck am I supposed to think, Shane McCutcheon?" The darker woman's voice steadily rose as she spoke.

"Carmen, will you keep it down?"

"No, Shane, I will_not_ keep it down! At this point it's my fucking privilege to be loud and crass and rude, okay?! Why don't you ever understand how much you hurt people, Shane? It's like you can't even—"

Shane grabbed Carmen's wrists and pulled her farther away from the front door. "What do you want from me, Carmen? Why are you even here? Do you want your shit back or something?"

Carmen shook her head and pursed her lips.

"Well, if you have nothing to say that couldn't be said during the day, then you need to come back later. Do you even know what time it is? And for the record, I don't care how mad you are at me—you do _not_ bring Paige or her son into this, because no matter how good I am to them, it doesn't give you the right to—"

"You are _not_ allowed to be self-aggrandizing, Shane McCutcheon, just because you are helping to raise a kid that isn't yours. Using a relationship to redeem yourself for a bad ending to the last one does not signify a true change in character." Carmen wrenched her wrists away and took a moment to compose herself. She looked Shane square in the eye, despite the fact that her own brown orbs were stinging with hot tears. Her next words were in a whisper, "It's just hard, Shane. That blonde? She's living what was _supposed_ to be _my_ life. That was supposed to be me in there, behind you, answering the door with you in the middle of the night, and maybe _our_ son wondering who it is. _That…_" She made a defeated gesture towards the house. "…was supposed to be _me_. But you threw me away like I meant nothing to you. I've never felt a pain like that before in my life."

Shane sighed and rubbed her fingers through her hair. That conversation would have been much easier with shouting and screaming and bitchy Carmen as opposed to sad and beaten and crushed Carmen. But she supposed that she didn't deserve the easy way out after what she had done.

"No one will give you what we had, Shane McCutcheon. Maybe she'll make you feel good about yourself and content and relaxed, but it'll never be the same or as special as what we had." When Shane didn't look her in the eye, Carmen sighed and wiped the tears from her face. "Okay. Well. I'm gonna go now. I can't believe I'm even here…" Pulling her keys from her pocket, she started for her car, which was parked at the curb.

"Carmen, you can't drive like this," said Shane noticing the other woman's sluggish gait. Carmen had always been the kind of drunk that was a wonderful conversationalist but a terrible walking companion. She moved to follow her.

"Shane, I don't need your help and—" and Carmen tripped and fell hard onto the ground, face-first.

"Fuck," muttered Shane, hurrying to Carmen's side. She rolled the smaller woman onto her back and felt her heart break into a million pieces all over again. Carmen was sobbing uncontrollably now, her tears making little trails in the dirt on her face. "I'm so sorry, Carmen. I'm so sorry."

The darker woman didn't reply, simply wrapped her arms around Shane's ankle and continued to cry.

"Look, I'm gonna drive you home. I'll take a cab back to my place, okay?" said Shane softly. Without waiting for a response, she gathered Carmen into her arms and placed her into the passenger seat of her Prius. A twinge of nostalgia hit Shane hard in the chest as she looked over to her driveway at the Jeep Wrangler they'd once shared, but Carmen had never claimed after the breakup. Alice was right. This needed closure. Lots of it. She climbed into the driver's seat, adjusted the chair, and managed to get Carmen to explain, loosely, where she lived.

Carmen gradually stopped crying, but said nothing as they pulled onto the empty roads. Shane tried her best to find something decent on the radio and eventually settled on a local college station. The DJ announced in purring tones, "This next one, Marrow, is by the lovely Ani DiFranco off of her Reveling album, a nice smooth tune for this time of night. Enjoy."

_The answer came like a shot in the back_

_While you were running from your lesson, which might explain_

_Why years later all you could remember was the terror of the question_

_Plus, you weren't listening—you were stockpiling canned goods,_

_Making a bomb shelter of our basement and I can't believe you let the moral go by_

_While you were soaking in the product placement_

"I'm sorry about the window," apologized Carmen after a while.

Shane looked over at her. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."

"I'll pay for it."

"No, no it's okay."

Silence.

"So… you drank a lot of tequila tonight," ventured Shane awkwardly. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

Carmen leaned her head against the window. "Don't worry about me, Shane."

"You hardly drank hard liquor before and—"

"Shane. I'd been drinking that handle all day long. And I didn't need to drink to be angry enough to throw that rock through your window."

"I see."

_Where was your conscience? Where was your consciousness?_

_And where did you put all those letters that you wrote to yourself,_

_But could not address?_

_I'm a good kisser and you're a fast learner and that kinda thing could float us_

_For a pretty long time…_

_Then one day you'd realize you've memorized my phone number_

_And you'll call it and find it's a disconnected line_

'_Cause I got tossed out the window of love's El Camino_

_And I shattered into a shower of sparks on the curb_

_You were smoking me weren't you?_

_Between your yellow fingers, you just inhaled and exhaled without saying a word_

"So tell me about the girl," said Carmen, still staring out the window.

Shane let out a puff of air. "Her name's Paige. Paige Sobel. Her kid's name is Jared, and he's ten… almost eleven. She's really sweet. We're thinking about buying a house in Valley Village or Silverlake."_Tell her about Shay_ insisted that damn voice again. She continued to ignore it.

"Right," Carmen scoffed. She exhaled slowly and looked at the woman across from her. "Good for you."

"Well, what about you? Anyone in your life right now?" asked Shane, wishing she could feign a more innocent or apologetic inflection.

"Nope. I'm off of the relationships boat for awhile," replied Carmen matter-of-factly. "Doin' the 'old Shane' thing for awhile. It's working out nicely."

An extended quiet followed. Then, Carmen slid her hand into Shane's. She didn't grip, just put her hand there without comment or expression. Meanwhile, Shane's heart jumped into high gear. She gulped and gave Carmen's hand a gentle squeeze.

_There's a smorgasbord of unspoken poisons, a whole childhood of potions_

_That are all bottled up and so one by one I am dusting off labels_

_I am uncorking bottles and filling up cups_

_So go ahead and have a taste of your own medicine_

_And I'll have a taste of mine but first let's toast to the lists_

_That we hold in our fists of the things that we promise to do differently next time_

They rode with hands entwined until Shane pulled the Prius into the parking lot of Carmen's apartment complex. It was a nice part of town, not close enough to the action to be super expensive but not too far for a quick bike ride over to the action. Shane subconsciously wondered how Carmen had managed to buy all new DJ equipment, since everything she'd owned before was still piled in the guest house where Max was staying.

"We're here," stated Shane plainly. She inwardly kicked herself. Awkward, awkward, awkward. Why did Carmen still have this effect on her?

Carmen sighed, opened the passenger door, and said over her shoulder, "You haven't changed at all, Shane McCutcheon. Still playing the same old games. Bastard."

"What?!" Shane jumped out of the driver's door and hissed over the roof of the car, "What did I do now?!"

"You just held your ex's hand for an entire car ride!" answered Carmen, hands waving as they did when she was angry. "That's what you did! God, Shane, do you ever fucking stop and think about the things you do or how they might affect other people?"

Shane was so furious she felt like jumping across the car and strangling her ex partner. She huffed and puffed for a couple seconds before finally replying, "Y-Yeah well _you_ haven't changed either! You play all these fucking mind games and manipulate me and then get all pissed at me when your damn tricks actually work!"

"What do you mean, manipulate you?!"

"Like that night when I went to Cherie—you _knew_ I'd see you flirting with those Def Jam boys! You _wanted_ me to see it! And even if it _was_ work that night, there were times you did it before!" Shane punched her finger in the air accusingly as she spoke. "You kissed Jenny in front of me just so I would get jealous. You did it more than once. Do you think I'm stupid, Carmen? You think I didn't know what you were doing?"

'_Cause the answer came like a shot in the back_

_While you were running from your lesson, which might explain_

_Why years later all you could remember was the terror of the question_

_Plus, I'm not listening to you anymore; my head is too sore and my heart's perforated_

_And I'm mired in the marrow of my "well ain't that" funny bone,_

_Learning how to be alone and devastated_

_Where was my conscience? Where was my consciousness?_

_And what do I do with all these letters that I wrote to myself_

_But cannot address?_

Carmen's jaw clamped shut. She looked down and quietly said, with a bravado-filled smile through stinging tears, "Goodnight, Shane. It was nice to see you again."

"Right. The keys are in the ignition. Hope you make it upstairs alright. Bye." Shane stalked away from the car, her fists clenched at her sides. The nerve! Her whole body was shaking with anger. She kicked the ground, punched a light post, and walked in circles in a desperate attempt to get rid of her anger, but to no avail.

First, Carmen gets her all riled up with the damn rock through the window and then breaks her down with the whole crying bit, and then pulls the "you haven't changed at all" schtick! Who did she think she was? Shane rubbed a hand down her face and started stomping in the general direction of her house. She lived about twenty miles away and hopefully such a hike would cleanse the adrenaline from her veins.

It was strange to be walking around at that time of morning; truth be told, she had previously only walked around Hollywood at 5 A.M. when she was completely trashed. The streets weren't exactly empty, seeing as it was Hollywood, but they were uneventful at the least. There was no honking, no yelling, no sirens. Silence. The air was cold and sharp and stung at Shane's chest, but she rather enjoyed the cleanness, or impression of cleanness, she felt as it filled her lungs.

Slowly, her blood pressure returned to normal and the tension of the night began to melt away. The furious cloud cleared from her mind only to be replaced with an exhaustion like Shane McCutcheon had hardly experienced before. It made her whole body feel heavy, as if her shoes were concrete and her veins were filled with lead. Her head was pounding right behind her eyeballs, her nerves shot. She hadn't felt like this since coming down off of Cherie's cocaine that last time.

Her life was never meant to be this complicated. She'd spent so much energy and resources and time trying to keep people at a distance that she sometimes felt like she was seventeen again, an emotionally-stunted and socially inept teenager trying her damnedest to understand how to fix and maintain relationships. She'd forgotten what this hurt, this confusion, truly felt like. Until now. God, what she wouldn't do for some oxy.

The sun was just peeking over the houses when Shane trudged up the front steps and through the front door. The glass in the living room had been vacuumed up, or so she assumed by the conspicuous placement of the vacuum against the kitchen table. A piece of cardboard had been placed over the window and sealed with duct tape. The homeowner's association was going to be on here ass within the next eight hours for sure.

Paige was stretched out on the couch, eyes closed. Shane had a flashback of the Cherie morning after, with Carmen dozing in the exact same spot (except Paige's feet were hanging off the end, a problem which Carmen, a full eight inches shorter than Paige, hardly ever experienced), and oddly enough, she felt something of the same guilt tearing at her heart as she had that morning. "Paige?" she whispered, kneeling at the head of the couch.

The blonde sat up and rubbed her hand over her face. "Shane?" she murmured sleepily. "Baby, I was so worried about you. Where have you been all night?"

"I took her to her apartment and then I walked home. I just needed to work off some adrenaline, you know?"

Paige nodded and leaned up on one elbow, affectionately stroking Shane's cheek with the other hand. "So… you're not leaving me for her? You didn't have some sort of reunion kiss or anything?"

"No! God, no," said Shane, putting on her best reassuring smile. "Were you worried about that?"

"A little bit," admitted the blonde with a grin. "But I trust you, baby."

Shane really smiled then, brushing the hair from Paige's eyes. But her smile quickly dissipated when she remembered the hand-holding incident in the car… She covered up her sudden uneasiness by quickly asking, "Do you have to work this morning?"

"No… I go to the bar around seven tonight, though. Come to bed for a little bit." The blonde sat up and stretched and took Shane's hand and led her to the bedroom. Shane set the alarm so they could take Jared to school and they slipped off their clothes to snuggle under the covers.

An hour or two passed and, despite having been up all night, Shane couldn't sleep. She could barely keep her eyes closed, so she focused her gaze on a miniscule crack in the ceiling. Paige's head rested on her shoulder, her impossibly long arms wrapped tightly about her chest. She stared at the golden hairs splayed over the covers, the pale skin that gently reflected the morning light, the unbelievably long and slender but muscular legs draped around her own. And she suddenly realized why she felt like a cheat when she came through the front door. The only thought running through her mind was this: That was supposed to be Carmen.


	3. Rule 9: Drink When Shane Messes Up

Disclaimer: I do not own The L Word, which is owned by that wonderful entertainment channel known as Showtime and that lucky lady known as Ilene Chaiken. I would, however, like to keep tabs on my original characters. Any and all references to real people are fiction and should not be misconstrued as truth relating to or about these people.

Timeframe: Just after the Season 4 finale.

Characters: Carmen/Shane/Paige love triangle (main focus). Alice is also important. Cameos from other characters very possible.

Author's Notes: I'm sorry this has taken me so long! I know where I want to take the story (although whether it's Sharmen or Shane/Paige I shan't reveal :) but lately I've been really confused as to how I'm going to get it there. / I've written several drafts of key plot points but I haven't been able to properly connect them, in my opinion. Additionally, I have been struggling to thin out the drama and stressful conversations of the story. Although I totally think that, in this situation with these characters, there would be nothing but dramatic conversations and stressful encounters, but I'm fairly sure that that does not make for a pleasant read. Lastly, I've been struggling with the first drafts of a brand new Shane/Carmen/Paige story, and I've been gently nudging that story into existence while accidentally neglecting my first work. :[

But thank you so much for the reviews! Puts a smile on my face every time :. I only hope that I can live up to your expectations. Hopefully I won't disappoint!

**Te Busque**

**By leftoverme**

"Remember when I left you? I couldn't say your name or other crucial things like "I love you." Oh, that's a shame. I don't know if you're hearing my voice or the reprise. Our hearts didn't come together, but I saw the two collide. I can see the hearts sinking." The Organ, _Sinking Hearts_.

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**Chapter 3:** Rule #9 – Drink When Shane Messes Up

Alice was having a good morning. She'd gotten a cute little phone call from Tasha, who wanted to call her before becoming incommunicado for an indefinite period of time. Aww. She'd discovered, stuffed underneath her bed, a favorite shirt that she'd given up for lost. Awesome. She'd found a dollar on the ground outside her apartment complex. Sweet. She'd waltzed into the Planet and found that the coffee was particularly tasty this fine morning, much like back in the day when Marina personally fixed their morning coffee. Perfect. And now she was lounging in her usual spot at the bar, waiting patiently for her best friend to show up. All was well.

Shane slouched into the Planet around eight o'clock. It was the usual time on days that she dropped Jared off at school. Nothing out of the ordinary, except she looked unusually scruffy this fine morning. Alice would go so far as saying her friend looked haggard. Paige was right behind her (this was also the norm nowadays), and she too appeared a bit worse for wear. Ah. Must've been up all night "banging the gong."

"What were _you two_ doing all night?" asked Alice with a sly grin as the couple moved into earshot. "Doin' the horizontal hokey pokey? Or should I say 'telling stories?'"

"I am not in the mood for you right now, Al. I am _so _mad at you," replied Shane, striding straight past her friend to an empty table.

"Wha-What? What'd I do now?"

Paige gave Alice a warning look. "I'd leave her alone. She was up all night dealing with Carmen. And_ I_ was up all night cleaning up the window Carmen broke."

"She broke a window? Really? Eesh." Alice made a face. "Well, at least that was all she did. I once knew this girl who got cheated on so she used a chainsaw to cut their bed in half then drove the cheatin' bitch's truck into some wet cement and left it there."

Shaking her head, Paige simply walked over to Shane.

"Well, let's not be_rude_ about it," muttered the reporter to herself. She pushed off from her bar stool just as Tina, Max, and Jenny (back from San Francisco just that morning, having figured out the movie studio's ploy to chase her away) strolled in. "Hey guys," greeted Alice, and through the side of her mouth, in a half-whisper, she added, "Watch out for Shane. She's on the warpath."

The other three women furrowed their brows in unified confusion, but followed Alice to the table anyway.

"How're you all this morning?" asked Tina, looking from Shane to Paige to Alice. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. But Carmen showed up at the house in the middle of the night and caused some drama," explained Paige, rubbing Shane's back affectionately. Shane was slumped over the table, her face buried in her arms. "Threw a rock through the window and broke a tequila bottle on the house."

"Better time than ever to find new place, eh?" joked Max with a nervous laugh. "I_thought_ I heard something last night, but I didn't think it was anything _that_ monumental."

"Carmen would be able to track you down no matter how far you went," interrupted Jenny, who couldn't help but smile. "It couldn't have been _that_ bad, Shane. So you had a fight with an ex, so what? People fight with their exes all the time. Quit whining so much."

"See, that—that's exactly what I was gonna say," piped Alice, sipping her delicious coffee. Mm. Dee-_lish_. "Had to happen sometime, right guys?" Tina, Max, and Jenny nodded as a unit, and it kinda made Alice want to laugh.

Shane lifted her head and looked around the table. Everyone but Paige was staring at her with the same eager gaze. God. Where was Kit with that doubleshot? "Guys, this is not something that I'm—I'm _used_ to dealing with, okay? And Carmen… She's intense, you know?"

Jenny quickly commented, "It's in her personality. I don't think Carmen would really be Carmen if she was any other way, right? She's Carmen: the loud Latin girl who always stood up for herself and her friends and what she believed in and had the greatest ass of any of us."

At that, Shane grinned. She hastily wiped it off her face, however, when she noticed that Paige was staring at her. Fuck.

"So how did you guys depart?" asked Tina with genuine curiosity. "I mean, was she angry? Crying? Forgiving?"

"It was alright," lied Shane, keeping her eyes pinned to a crumb on the table. "It wasn't good… but it wasn't terrible."

Then, the conversation was interrupted by a slight commotion at the front. Kit was happily embracing someone, saying something along the lines of, "…you lookin' _fine_, girl!" and there were a couple of lesbians murmuring greetings along with her. When they parted, there stood the maiden of the hour—Carmen de la Pica Morales. She politely returned the welcome back's and walked straight over to the table, her smile stretching from ear to ear as she half-squealed, "Jenny _fucking_ Schecter!"

The writer sprung from the table and embraced Carmen with a few salutary squeals of her own. "Oh my god! I missed you so _fucking_ much!"

"I missed you too! You look beautiful, as always," beamed Carmen, ruffling Jenny's hair. Letting her arm rest around Jenny's slight waist, she turned her eyes to the rest of the table. "Tina! You look amazing! Look at you in that power suit! And Max! Hi!" She moved around the table to give Tina and Max hugs, allowing her arms to linger around Max's strong neck. Quietly, so only he could hear, she said to him: "You look _so good_, Max. I'm so proud of you."

Max's face broke into a huge smile and he put his hands on Carmen's hips somewhat gawkily. "It's really n-nice to see you, Carmen. You l-look good too," he stammered, melting into a puddle of awkward and cute Max-y goo, and any leftover resentment or misunderstanding between them melted along with him.

And then Carmen turned her attention to Alice, Shane, and Paige. Her smile faltered momentarily, then it was right back where it had been—although with far less authenticity. "Morning, ladies. And Shane." She took a seat between Tina and Jenny. "God, it's so nice to finally be back here! I haven't had good coffee in _so long_. But you know, I can't remember why I haven't been back here. I mean, it's not like _I_ did anything wrong."

Shane was very seriously contemplating her escape route when she looked at the door and saw a reason not to go in that direction—Papi. Sigh. This morning was just getting better and better. Papi strode over to the table in her usual fashion, but then she did something that made Shane's stomach cramp into a knot—she planted a kiss square on Carmen's lips. It was quick and simple, but it was surprising nonetheless. Carmen then stood long enough for Papi to take a seat and settled herself on Papi's lap, one arm affectionately draped around Papi's shoulders.

"Mornin' chicas," greeted Papi, smiling like a king. "And Shane."

God. It was like it was scripted or something. Shane rubbed her hand down her face in a desperate attempt to make it all go away, but alas—they were still there when she opened her eyes again. Half of her wanted to slide under the table and crawl out the door and the other half wanted to clock Papi in the jaw for being so smug (certainly not because she had Carmen perched on her lap…).

"Woah," piped in Alice. "Wait. I remember this—you two knew each other in high school, right? The porn thing?"

"Yeah, we went to a porn festival instead of my senior prom. And had sex in her truck until her mom called and wanted her home," laughed Carmen, looking at Papi with fond eyes. "It was a blast. Perfect ending to a horrible high school career."

"Vanilla, you didn't tell me about you and mi Carmenita!" said Papi with a sly smile. She looked like a king, her hands confidently laced behind her head. "There's a whole lot of history you neglected to tell me, _y__hablas espanol_? Chico, you've been holding out on me."

God. Fucking Papi was always referring to her as a masculine noun and, while usually it was kind of fun and cheeky, it was teeth-grrrindingly annoying today. "Must've slipped my mind," muttered Shane. Maybe she'd skip over the doubleshot of espresso and go straight to a doubleshot of whiskey. She looked at her watch and stood. Lying was always a good choice in such situations. "Well. It's been fun ladies, but I have to go to work. I forgot that I, uhm, scheduled an… an early client today."

"Don't forget your interview is today!" interrupted Alice. When Shane gave her a look of absolute disdain, she shrugged and added, "A bet's a bet. You gotta be at the studio at eleven."

"What bet?" piped Paige, looking between them.

"Don't worry about it," said Shane quickly, forcing her eyes to remain on Paige and not swing over to Carmen as she said it. "But I'll be there, Al. I'll see the rest of you around." She awkwardly nodded at each member of the table, lingering on Carmen to say, "I'm glad you're happy about being back. You deserve it. This place was… really different without you." She pretended not to notice the fade in Carmen's smile and walked out with Paige.

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It was only about eight forty-five when they got back to the house. The walk home had been silent, and Shane was slowly coming to the realization that Paige was upset… and was probably getting more upset the longer it took for Shane to acknowledge it. Sigh. "Paige?" she murmured as they stepped into the living room. "Look… I'm sorry you're being dragged into my drama. I wasn't just trying to scare you away when I said women are worse than men."

"Yeah," exhaled the blonde, collapsing onto the couch. She stared at the ceiling for a bit while Shane awkwardly stood in the middle of the room wondering what was supposed to happen next. "You _really_ loved her, didn't you?"

"One of the very few," replied Shane honestly, throat suddenly dry. "But not the last."

Paige exhaled slowly, unwilling to take the bait. She wasn't going to drag it out of her; she wanted to know that Shane meant "those three little words" when—if—she finally said them. "I don't know if I can deal with her being around all the time."

"Tell me about it." Shane immediately regretted this statement and tried to smother it by quickly stammering, "May-maybe we can just a-avoid her for awhile, you know? Wait until the drama cools down on its own."

"How about… we take a little _break_ from your friends," suggested the blonde, her brow cutely furrowed. Shane smiled at the expression. Paige always did that when she was trying to say something cautiously. Oblivious to Shane's grin, the blonde carefully continued, "Don't get me wrong; I like spending time with you and your friends, but how about you come over to my side of the tracks until things settle down?"

"They're your friends too, you know," replied Shane, careful to not sound confrontational. She sat down on the edge of the couch.

"I know, but… if you're serious about buying a house together, and I hope to God you are, then I want you to know where I come from and the people that _I_have made a family with, you know?" Paige fiddled with the hem of Shane's shirt. "I just… I love you and I want to show you off to all my friends as the woman that I… _love_."

Shane grinned and ducked her head bashfully. Her cheeks were burning and her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest. She lifted her head to look into Paige's hopeful blue eyes and leaned in close to whisper, "I love you too, Paige Sobel, and I would _love_ to meet your friends."

The gorgeous, glowing smile that appeared on Paige's face made Shane's knees go all rubbery. The tension melted way and Shane, for the first time in their relationship, was one hundred percent _sure_. Just… sure. She wrapped her arms around the tall blonde and captured her lips in a kiss and crushed their bodies together.

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A bet is a bet. Shane rubbed her temples in an attempt to dissuade the headache behind her eyes from turning into a cranial thunderstorm, but given the torture she was about to undergo, a tempest of a migraine seemed inevitable. She should have learned long ago that Alice was seldom wrong. A red light suddenly illuminated in her peripheral vision. _Oh god. The nightmare begins._

"This is Alice Pieszecki with The Chart on KCRW and in the studio today I have none other than Shane McCutcheon, the recently de-throned Center of the Universe. Unless you've been living under a rock for the past couple months, you've seen her abs plastered across billboards as the surly new face and outrageously skinny body of Hugo Boss underwear. Lesbians across Hollywood, California, and even the world have had their hearts broken by _this_ crazy-haired Cassanova, and today you'll be hearing her side of the story _exclusively_ on KCRW. Say hi, Shane."

The aforementioned 'de-throned center of the universe' couldn't help but glare at her best friend. This was so… demeaning… "Hey… this is… Shane."

God. This was going to be like pulling teeth. Alice gave Shane a warning look before beginning, "So Shane, _what_ have you been up to lately? Your Chart count has been stalled at nine hundred and sixty-four for quite some time now. What's the story? Have you lost your mojo or is there something more sinister afoot?"

Shane gave Alice a look, but the blonde wasn't backing down. Dragging her fingers through her hair, Shane offered, "I guess I've been out of the game because I recently met a wonderful woman. I'd prefer not to, um, disclose her name, but she's, uh, she's beautiful and intelligent and sweet. I've been helping her raise her son and we're thinking about buying a house together. I guess old habits die easy for the right woman."

"There's a quote for the Myspace profiles," quipped Alice, ducking her head so she could roll her eyes without Shane noticing. "But do you miss it, Shane? I mean, are there times when you wonder what you're missing in the big bad lesbian singles' scene?"

"Not really."

Alice would be goddamned if she didn't get a good interview out of her friend. She straightened up and looked Shane square in the eye. Game time. "Really? Not a thing? Not the thrill of the chase or the—the confidence you get from winning over a complete stranger without even trying? When I interviewed Papi—you know her—she had some _very_ interesting things to say about why she sleeps with so many women. What do you have to offer to the subject? I mean, surely it isn't just the sex—there's got to be some sort of psychological dependency on these women that belies your sex-crazed antics. Spill it."

Shane sat back in her chair, uncomfortable. Alice was looking at her with an expectant yet threatening expression. She wrote something down on a piece of paper and held it up for Shane to see: "SPEAK OR DIE." Shane felt an inexplicable flash of frustration that made her cheeks burn. Damn Alice. Damn her for making her come on this damn show. Damn her for not letting Shane see the questions beforehand. Damn her for being right all the damn time. And damn her for being so goddamned good at hitting the nail on the head.

Licking her lips, Shane answered, "I… I _do_ miss it sometimes, but not enough to sacrifice what I have right now." She would have left it at that, but Alice was still giving her a death glare. "But yes… I guess I miss… the rush. I wouldn't call it the 'thrill of the chase,' but… I miss being a part of these women's lives, even for a night. I guess what I miss most is… listening to their stories, you know? Women always have a story to tell."

Alice was holding up another sign. It said "ALL OR NOTHING FATTY!"

Shane smiled in spite of herself, but it was more of a bemused grimace of defeat than a grin of amusement. Might as well. "I always asked a lot of questions but I didn't give a lot of answers because I never wanted the women to know how boring my life actually was. I mean, for six years I was working as a part-time shampoo girl and living in a one-bedroom apartment with three other lesbians and we all slept in the same bed—but not in a fun way, if you're wondering." Shane was staring at her hands as she spoke, her skin crawling with discomfort as she violated every principle of privacy she had ever held close. "Women always want to talk about what's going on—or isn't going on—in their lives. And I was perfectly happy to listen and offer what input I could and then go home with them for, you know… a little fun. A little break from their lives, I guess. And in return… they'd give me a little break from mine."

The smile on Alice's face as Shane finished her little spiel was almost enough to make up for the fact that she'd forced Shane onto the radio and peer pressured her into spilling her guts. Almost.

"Well that's a very interesting way to explain things, Shane. Thank you for sharing." She mouthed, "I freakin' love you," and then continued into her mic, "Now we're going to take a couple questions, so who do I have on the line right now?"

"Felicia," crackled a voice.

"Hey Felicia," greeted Shane. "How're you?"

"I'm doing great and I'm so glad you decided to come on the Chart, Shane! This is like my favorite radio show ever and I've always wanted to be able to just sit and listen to your sexy voice. I'm _totally_ straight, but I love the Hugo Boss ad and all my friends have picked up that whole 'You're looking very Shane today' catchphrase! It's better than 'That's hot!'"

Shane laughed and shrugged, sheepishly murmuring, "Well thanks, Felicia. Glad I catch on faster than Paris Hilton."

"What question do you have for Shane today?" piped Alice.

"I was just wondering if the rumors are true—that you were once involved with that DJ, I think she's DJ Sugar? Carmen de la Pica Morales? It's like the biggest question on your fansite message boards. She's connected to you on the Chart, so we know something happened, but isn't it true that you almost married her?"

The question wiped the grin right off of Shane's face. "Uhm. I, um… uhhh…" The hairdresser's jaw moved up and down a couple times before she finally managed, "I don't know if that's appropriate to talk about here."

"Because I just think that you two would make an _adorable_ couple and everyone is arguing over whether you _used_ to be involved with her or if she's that 'special lady' in your life right now and—"

"She's not the 'special lady' in my life right now," interjected Shane, frowning. "I don't really think that's appropriate to talk about either."

"So she _was_ your girlfriend?"

"Thanks for the question, Felicia!" interrupted Alice, ending the call. She glared through the window at her producer, who already had her hands up in a defensive 'don't blame me' fashion. "We're gonna take a couple more callers before Shane's gotta giddyap on out of here to WAX."

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After a disastrous night, a disastrous morning, a draining radio debut, and a long day of work, Shane wanted nothing more than to curl up with Paige and go to sleep. Unfortunately, she didn't make it back to her house until around six forty-five… which meant Paige was already on her way to work. So instead she settled for a replacement, albeit a totally less-than-acceptable replacement: Two ice cold Coronas. As she rifled through the drawers looking for the bottle opener, a voice behind her announced, "I have it."

Shane straightened up and turned to face Max, who was standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. "Thanks," she said as he tossed the tool to her. "What's up? You look nice."

Max was wearing gray pinstripe slacks with a black button-down. He crossed the room to slide into a chair at the table before responding, "The Shiny Toy Guns are coming to the Planet tonight. We're gonna go out to dinner beforehand. You should come. Carmen will be there, but… you should still come."

A satisfied grin finally crossed Shane's face as she popped the first cap off, then the second. Without turning to her friend, she distractedly replied, "I don't know if Carah Faye is worth another episode like the one this morning." She took a gulp of the first beer and joined Max at the table. "Want one?"

"Nah, I'm good for now, thanks." They sat in companionable silence for awhile before Max asked, "You okay?"

Shane was starting on her second beer, but stopped to look up at Max as she replied, "I… I guess so. You know you're the first person to ask me that since this whole Carmen thing started up again?"

Max shrugged and provided a small smile. "I know that Carmen's world was torn apart when you left her, and I think everyone is trying their best to find a balance in the situation with Paige in the picture now, but… I think sometimes they forget how much you hurt yourself by leaving Carmen too."

And in spite of all the walls and fortifications that Shane had been building up around herself over the past two days, her eyes suddenly stung with tears. She slouched in her chair, her body reduced to a bag of bones as she breathed, "Fuck, man. I think I'll be perfectly okay once Carmen gets all her aggression out. But… There's so much drama running around me these days I can't even remember the last time I took the time to have a conversation with you. How've _you_ been lately? How's Grace?"

"Been good. Grace's been around," answered Max, characteristically simple. He smiled and slapped Shane on the shoulder, laughing as she almost choked on her beer. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I used to be a lesbian too, you know."

Shane actually allowed herself a laugh at that, and finished the bottle. "Do you really think I should come to dinner tonight? Because I'm only going if you promise to help me out when they all start ganging up on me."

"I think that avoiding Carmen is just going to drag out the situation. You're both adults—albeit lesbian adults—and I think this will blow over pretty soon. Just don't let her or Papi drag you down. Pretend like you're cool with everything."

Chuckling to herself, Shane stood and stretched her arms high above her head. "I think you're right… but I'm having a couple more beers first."

Max's grin widened. "Wanna play a game?"

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Dinner was at some hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant that Alice had suggested. The first to arrive and be seated were Tina, Bette, and Jenny (which was just all kinds of awkward), followed by a slightly inebriated Max and a somewhat more inebriated Shane, then Alice, then Papi and Carmen. They engaged each other in small talk and light banter for the better part of the evening. It was, for the most part, fun and enjoyable. Shane and Max (who were secretly playing a drinking game, complete with rules for each woman seated at the table) found that their fear of an awkward, drama-filled dinner was unwarranted.

"So Carmen," began Jenny, dipping her last piece of naan bread into her masala sauce. "Where exactly have you been over the past six months?"

The table quieted down at the question, with all eyes turned to Carmen expectantly—well, all eyes except for Max and Shane's eyes. They were looking at each other to make sure the other was taking a drink.

_Rule #7: Drink every time Jenny clears a room or leaves everyone speechless._

"Well… I've been busy," said Carmen around a mouthful of chicken. She swallowed, wiped her mouth, and leaned against the table in her best 'nonchalant' pose. "What do you wanna know?"

"Like… how did you get back into spinning if you didn't have any of your stuff?"

"What do you mean by that?" interrupted Papi, brows furrowed. "Did something happen to your tables?"

_Rule #4: Drink every time Papi gets confused_. Shane was halfway through what would be her sixth beer for the night. Max flagged down the waitress for a refill.

"They're still in the shed where Max lives," explained Carmen patiently. "I just didn't want to go back to that house after what happened."

_Rule #1: Drink every time Carmen references the Shane/Carmen almost-wedding fiasco_.

"I actually took up a job working for one of my cousin's car detailing companies," continued the DJ, oblivious to the drunken antics of Shane and Max. "Secretary. I just sat at the front desk and took money all day long. One day Russell Simmons came in with his Escalade and asked me if I was still spinning… when I told him what happened, he flew me out to New York for a whole new wardrobe and bought me all new equipment."

"What was the catch?" interrupted Bette, her hands clasped together in front of her chin as they always were when she was analyzing things.

_Rule #5: Drink every time Bette sucks the fun out of something._

Carmen grinned and replied, "The 'catch' was me signing a contract Def Jam. He got me a manager and a lawyer and everything." She paused long enough to take a drink of her beer. "And I mean, that opened so many opportunities for me. I started spinning parties for Kanye West and the Roots and I met Nelly Furtado through Jay-Z. She was so sweet and said she'd love to have a Latina DJ on her world tour and a couple weeks later I was signed on… And here I am, I guess."

"You just dropped a whole lot of names there, sister," piped Alice, who was working on some kheer. "I mean, you're talking about hitting the big time. What are you doing going to the Planet tonight? You should totally take us out to meet some of these people. I've _always_ wanted to have a philosophical conversation with Kanye West."

_Rule #2: Drink every time Alice mentions having a fantasy/wish (sexual or not)._ Shane, a seasoned drinker, finally found her vision dragging a bit as she stared into the bottom of her ninth beer. Max, a not-quite-as-seasoned drinker, was having trouble focusing on things as he reached the halfway point of his seventh.

"It's not like _I'm_ a celebrity," replied Carmen. "I'm just taking the opportunities as they're coming to me and hoping for the best. There's no reason to get caught up in all the hype, right?"

"Well here, here!" chirped Alice, holding up her glass. "I'll drink to that!"

The rest of the table's occupants followed the gesture. Max had a little more trouble than he would have liked and couldn't quite hold his bottle up as high as everyone else. Good thing they'd taken a cab.

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The Planet was packed for the Shiny Toy Guns show. The crowd was of a slightly different composition than usual, sprinkled with many more straight patrons and teenagers with dyed-black hair covering their faces. Bette, Tina, and Alice broke off to a table at the back while Shane, Carmen, Max, and Jenny pushed their way into the crowd for a good view. Unfortunately, this also meant that they were all squished together into a much-too-small space.

Shane could feel the breasts of the girl standing behind her pressing into her lower back. Intrigued, she turned, but was disappointed to see that the girl couldn't have been a day over sixteen. Uncomfortable, she wedged herself forward between Max and Jenny. Max's eyes were cloudy and unfocused, a goofy grin permanently settled on his lips. Shane clapped him on the shoulder so hard he almost toppled onto the emo boy in front of him. She congratulated, "Good dinner, buddy."

"Should definitely do it again sometime," replied Max still with that goofy grin. After a moment, he added: "I gotta piss… and find Grace. I might not come back." And he disappeared.

Grinning to herself, Shane crossed her arms over her chest as Carmen slid into the position vacated by Max. "He should watch how much he drinks. Beer goes straight through him," said the hairdresser with a casual shrug. The twelve beers she'd had since seven o'clock were definitely weighing on her, and she hoped Carmen wouldn't notice.

Carmen couldn't help but smile at the lack of focus in the taller woman's eyes. "You're drunk."

"What? Me?" snapped Shane defensively. "I'm just… a little tipsy, that's all."

"Right… so you_don't_ have an excuse for staring at my tits right now?"

Shane blinked. Godammit. She _was_ staring at Carmen's boobs. Sighing, she redirected her attention to the stage. "Whatever. Sorry."

Laughing, Carmen followed suit, turning her shoulders to face the stage. The band soon trotted onstage and the lights went down low. "We're the Shiny Toy Guns, and we're honored to be here tonight," purred a male voice. "This one's called _Rainy Monday_." As the music started, lights behind the band began to flash red, silhouetting the musicians and like shadows.

_I don't mind_

_You're someone that ain't mine_

_But someone that I'll get_

_And you don't know how hard I've tried_

_To convince myself that I_

_Can easily forget_

Shane found herself continually glancing down at the Latin beauty beside her. Dinner had been a pleasant affair. The idea that Carmen hated her had long been eating away at Shane's soul… but right now she didn't feel that Carmen hated her, and it filled her with a peace unlike anything she'd felt since before Dana got sick. Despite whatever transgressions occurred while they were together, they had always forgiven each other because, when it came down to it, they had been lovers _and_ very close friends.

_But you left this feeling here inside me_

_One that never fails to find me_

_On a rainy Monday, a feeling inside me_

_Like the days of summer_

_On a rainy Monday, I feel it inside me_

_In the hopes of one day…_

"Carmen?" Shane had to speak directly into the shorter woman's ear for her to hear over the music.

"Yes, Shane?"

"I miss you."

Carmen's brow furrowed for a moment before relaxing into one of her patented megawatt smiles. She put a hand to Shane's neck and put her lips close to her ear to say, "I miss you too, Shane McCutcheon. I'm sorry for being so mean lately."

"It's okay; I deserved to be kicked around."

_I won't lie – I still can't say that I admit we went too far_

_And you won't see me change my mind_

_But I really wish that I could forget the way you are_

_But you left this feeling here inside me_

_The battle in my mind still fights me_

_I can see that you're not beside me_

_But I still feel you shine inside of me_

"Can we start over, Carmen? Square one? I'm tired of fighting with you. It's killing me on the inside. I… I want my friend back."

"It's killing me too, Shane," admitted the Latina. They stood like statues in a courtyard of moving bodies, posed perfectly still with Shane's head tilted down towards Carmen's outstretched hand. "Square one. Friends?"

"Friends," agreed Shane, smiling so big her face threatened to give way. She pulled the smaller woman into a tight embrace, then let go in order to clap, whoop, and holler in approval as the song came to an end. Finally. Finally the fighting and the awkwardness was over. Finally she had closure. Finally she could move forward with her life. And finally she had Carmen back in her life.

Finally.

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Author's Note: Don't leave! This isn't the end! Stick around! More to come:


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